In Pursuit of My Python Trail: A winding journey through both sides of a dream

This story hails from the great and mysterious continent of Africa and from the lesser known country of Cameroon, but even more importantly from the voice of a child—a child who dared to dream.

The story is about his will, his untiring persistence and determination to reach for a place we know as America, the land of liberty and—for those brave enough to patiently embrace her—the enduring land of opportunity.

Ayeah was born into the Kom tribe in the northwest region of Cameroon. As first-born male in his family, his role was significant in Kom culture, where strict and obligatory traditions must be honored. However, as fate would have it, a tragedy befell his mother, and Ayeah was born out of wedlock. As they struggled to satisfy tradition, a series of events unfolded and paved a trail that would become an enduring and winding journey for his family and a relentless challenge for Ayeah.

In Pursuit of My Python Trail has its roots in the legend of the great Kom leader, whose spirit led his people out of harm’s way to their present home of Laikom. Although the exact origins of the tribe are unknown, Kom oral tradition says that they migrated to Bamessi in the grassland Tikari region during the population migration of the early 18th century. As the Kom tribe took root and flourished in Bamessi, the indigenous inhabitants and their leaders became envious of the tribe’s vibrant and prosperous expansion.

According to legend, the tribe's rivals, through trickery and deceit, managed to lure and slaughter the majority of the Kom males, including their leader. The remaining members of the tribe—boys, women and children—began a wandering exile through woods and brush in search of a new home.

As they drifted aimlessly through the tangle of land and bedraggled vegetation, they were heartened to see the spirit of their slain leader appear to them in the form of a great python. Sensing the snake had come to lead them home, they began a long trek, following a wide, deep line carved in the sand by the slither of the great python.

Mapping their way through the landscape, the Kom followed this trail around curve and bend, up and down, hoping and trusting in their eventual deliverance. No one knows how long they traveled. When the trail suddenly disappeared and the sand went silent, they knew they had arrived.

The Kom settlers created the village of Laikom around 1740, establishing their dynasty with Jinabo I as the first Fon or head chief. In gratitude for their safe arrival, they erected a royal palace on the spot where the snake was last seen. At the very top of the highest of seven high mountains, Laikom surveys its kingdom and the arduous path its people took to arrive there.

To this very day, intellectual elders in the Kom kingdom debate the question of whether the Python Trail will appear once again some day. The consensus is that it will, and that the people must be ready when that day comes. And so sentries are posted to look out for the snake and quickly mobilize the people when it arrives.

* * *

When I recall this story, told to me as a child, I realize this is my story too. I have also followed the trail of my python, and it has led me throughout Cameroon, north and south, east and west, and finally to this great land of opportunity called America.

My journey from home began when I was eight years old, and my path has been a twisting and curving one. I have, sometimes by choice and sometimes by chance, had to settle and resettle from family to family, village to village, town to town, and ultimately homeland to homeland.

It has been a trying and challenging journey and continues to be so. For the moment, the sand is silent, but I have many hills yet to climb and many paths yet to take. For now, deep in the heart of Cameroon, my people continue to wait for their trail to reappear, as do I, in America, in Maine.

As the story unfolds, you will discover that Ayeah’s trail, while a personal one, is not unlike the Python Trail of his people. The unfolding of a series of events reveals the true person he is and will become—the reincarnated spirit of the ancient Kom leader who will, once again, lead the Cameroon people out of the oppressive economic state surrounding them today.

We all strive for the same things in life—happiness, satisfaction, fulfillment, opportunity, and adventure are common themes. This is my story of pursuit, my journey of planning, experience, and surprise, but mostly the story of the life given to me by the courage and strength of the Kom people and my ability to dream of a better world for myself, my family, and for Kom.

Part One

Growing Up in Cameroon

Chapter One

Laikom

I am very proud to say that I am an American and have lived and continue to live and enjoy all that America promises to those brave enough to embrace her. I have been a resident of Portland, Maine for the better half of my life—22 years to be exact—or, by the time you read my story, close to a quarter century.

Portland, Maine is on the east coast, and I bring up the distinction, because on the west coast is another city by the same name: Portland, Oregon. Oregon, too, is a beautiful state, although I do not know the particulars of it, the landscape, or the people, for that matter. What I do know is that my luggage is somewhere in Portland, Oregon, where it has lived for nearly a quarter century as well.

Someday we may be united, but I am not holding my breath or making any big plans for the reunion. I am content to say, Bon Voyage, my dear luggage, good luck and farewell. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my luggage. There were things I had that were of great sentimental value: pictures of my homeland, clothes that were given to me by family, and memories which I can now only recall from the recesses of my mind.

My full name is Richard Ngong Afuma, but my birth name is Ayeah Nsom Afuma. I was named after my mother’s father. So, as you can see, only the last part of my birth name, Afuma, remains, as a tribute to my adoptive father. Afuma means survivor or sufferer, and as you will see, it has been a very applicable name for me. And while Ayeah Nsom was left behind, it still remains with me in heart and spirit. I’ll tell you about the name Richard later, but for now, just understand that it was my chosen Christian name. You may also be wondering about my adoptive father. I will get to that later as well.

Now that we have dispensed with naming formalities, you might begin to wonder where a person named Afuma would hail from. I was born Kom, in Njinikom, Cameroon, Africa, a village about 50 miles north northeast of Bamenda and just due west of Laikom.

Laikom is logistically the center of Kom territory and culture. It is the beautiful and salubrious hilltop capitol of Kom dynasty, the path to which is daunting at best. Precariously perched on a hill, Laikom is surrounded by an ancient thick wooded forest dotted with numerous ritualistic shrines. The forest is sacred, and Kom laws and traditions strictly prohibit hunting or habitation. It is a revered area set aside for ritual ceremonies and special events.

During my youth, I had the opportunity to visit Laikom on many occasions and passed through the surrounding area as I traveled to other villages. Getting to the top of this hill is not an easy endeavor and is only possible by crossing formidable rivers, precarious footbridges, and many slippery paths. I have experienced these steep and slippery slopes firsthand. And not as a tourist on a leisurely day hike to the top, with my neatly packed lunch and some water in a back pack, but as a barefoot child, responsible for carrying heavy loads of provisions on my head during oppressively hot days or torrential rains. The topography is rough, but once at the top, the view from Laikom is spectacular.

I have stood on the highest point of Laikom and have seen all seven hills that make up Kom dynasty. The scenic views of the surrounding grass and farmlands are beautiful and breathtaking, green as far as the eye can see during the rainy season yet vast and barren during the dry season.

As you stand and look out over the land, a gentleness and silence overcomes you. There is an ever-present cool breeze which winds its way through the paths, and as you climb or walk through the area, you are reminded of the strong history now embedded in the hills. If you pause and reflect for a moment, you can feel a sense of the struggle that was once so prevalent in years past and feel the success that has allowed Kom people to be able to call this place home.

I have enjoyed and worked many seasons in my life, and the ones in Cameroon are the most memorable. It is the seasons of the land and of life that shape you into who you are, who you long to be, and who you will become.

Njinikom is one of 43 villages that make up Kom tribe. I visited all 43 villages during my childhood and young adult years, but the most significant ones to me would be Fugum, just north of Njinikom; Belo, just south of Njinikom; and then Bamenda, further south still and well west of Bamessi. Oh yes, Bamessi; we’ll go there in a few moments.

I consider Bamenda my home town. A town in my culture is a melting pot of people from the surrounding villages in search of economic opportunities. Some would travel here to get goods and services not readily available in a village. Others would be migrating from poor conditions to the town in hope of finding opportunities. This gradual migration of people from villages to towns to cities is known as the Rural Exodus.

Bamenda is the northwest capitol of Cameroon that links the tribal villages to the other major cities in Cameroon. Douala, further south and toward the coast, is the largest city of Cameroon and home to its international airport. Buea, the first coastal city, is just west of Douala. And then there is Yaoundé, further south and to the east. It is the capital of Cameroon and the second largest city.

All of these places are significant in my life and have afforded me places to live and grow. These lands and places surrounding my homeland of Laikom and my Kom tribe have, in one way or another, challenged me, haunted me at times, but most of all allowed me to meet those difficulties and succeed. And these challenges for me, a descendent of Kom, remind me of my heritage and the people who also endured and met challenges to survive and prosper.

As I mention Yaoundé, it reminds me of a very significant time in my life, a time when, as a young man coming of age, I would set foot onto a path that would lead me away from all I knew. This path would bring me to a new world that was full of invention and full of people who had traveled to better themselves. I will tell you more of Yaoundé, but first I would like to tell you the story of my people as they underwent a series of events that changed their way of life as well.

About 200 miles from Yaoundé by train, and then northwest by foot, a beautiful land known as Bamessi was originally home to the tribe of Kom. In the early 1700s, Kom people had migrated through Ngaoundere and the neighboring regions from the north and east and found the Bamessi lands inviting and fertile. There were, however, already native inhabitants who were hesitant at first to allow Kom people to stay, but Kom were later able to enter into a friendship with the Chief of Bamessi who permitted them to settle there.

The land was fruitful to those who knew how to take care of it, and the culture and abilities of Kom people afforded them a place to root, flourish, and improve their way of life beyond that of the indigenous population.

Through many generations, Kom men had developed an almost divine relationship with the land, able to till and nurture their chosen crops which in turn fed the people. This ability was passed down from the elders to the young men, who then became the caretakers of the land. Each member, young and old, was deserving of respect and served a vital role in the community.

This harmony of land and life, and its resulting traditions, established such a strong society for Kom people that the Bamessi native inhabitants became jealous of them, as they were unable to duplicate their successes and security of culture, skills, and way of life.

There was some inter-marriage between the peoples which reduced the jealousy a bit, but it was not sufficient to harmoniously integrate the natives into Kom culture, and after a time, tensions built. This is always the way when cultures, religious beliefs, and peoples of different origins clash. Conflicts arise and change becomes inevitable. And so when these hardworking people had finally achieved the prosperity they deserved, new days brought new challenges for them.

The language of Kom people, Itanghikom, is only a spoken language, and because of this, only an oral record remains of the events I am about to share with you.

Kom oral tradition speaks of a dark time in their history when simple conflicts escalated into atrocities, changing life and direction for Kom.

As the urge to drive out Kom people from the Bamessi natives heated up, the Chief of Bamessi authorized the construction of two separate houses which were supposed to be used for large gatherings and tribal meetings. One house was designated for Kom people and the other for the Bamessi people. The houses would afford privacy to each people and also provide a place and forum to work through disputes, should they arise.

There was limited cooperation at this time, so Kom built their house and the Bamessi built theirs. However, unknown to Kom people, the Bamessi house was fitted with a secret passage beneath the floor, which could be used as an undetected escape from the building. There was no such door in Kom house.

Once the houses were completed, a large gathering was planned to celebrate the new meeting centers. Women and children would prepare foods for the male members of their respective tribes and would wait outside the houses for the ceremonies to be concluded before celebrating.

The men and older boys of each tribe gathered and met in their own house while Kom and Bamessi leaders met in private to discuss ways to improve cooperation between the people. They came together on a nearby hill that was nearly an hour’s walk from the village and newly constructed houses to begin discussions. As the meeting progressed, the Kom Leader found little cooperation from the Bamessi Chief and began to wonder what purpose this time alone was serving them.

As the leaders paused in conversation, they saw an abundance of smoke rising from the village below. The Bamessi Chief paid no attention to it, and while the Kom leader gazed down on the village, the Chief slipped away and was gone.

The smoke was coming from the two new houses, which had been set ablaze. The main entrances had been locked down, as was customary when religious or political meetings were in session, and Kom males were trapped inside. The terrified women and children stood helplelessly by as the treacherous plot of the Bamessi people took the lives of their families.

The Bamessi males had escaped through the underground tunnel, and while the fires were still burning, rounded up the remaining Kom women and children, along with the food from Kom tables. The young children of both tribes, not understanding what was taking place, yelled for the food but were pushed away by some older Bamessi children, who had sadly already been infected with the prejudice of their parents.

One of the most unfortunate lessons learned by ignorant children is the passing down of an adult prejudice to their offspring. Some children will rise above such teachings when the inner spirit is strong and can decipher right from wrong, but in doing so, the child is often mistreated for adhering to their own belief.

The chaos of this mistreatment took its toll, and some of the remaining Kom people were injured in the commotion. The women and stronger boys warded off their persecutors as best they could, but finally the last of Kom fled their settlement and their homes.

As the fires began to subside, crying and screaming could be heard from far away, and as the sun set, the Bamessi people feasted in their conquest and Kom people suffered, hungry, tired and lost.

When Kom leader returned and discovered what had happened, he was totally devastated because he knew such a plot could not have succeeded without the connivance of some of his own people. This thought saddened him deeply. He had failed his people and had been tricked by the Bamessi Chief. He knew there was only one path to follow and vowed never again to speak with the Bamessi Chief, as he knew that fruitful dialogue was not possible with someone capable of such treason.

The Kom leader knelt at the former location of the houses, breathing in deeply the smoldering ashes of wood, flesh, and bone. He chanted prayers that he would repeat again to his surviving people, prayers in which he promised to revenge the deaths of his people and to see a way for the ones left to survive and prosper once again.

Legend states that after the Kom leader prayed, he sought out the remaining people wandering or hiding in the tangles of brush and woods outside the village. He gathered them as best he could and spoke to them with authority, courage, and with hope:

"Such events as we have seen from those who we thought were our friends are not the true nature of people of the spirit, but of jealous zeal that reaches beyond the morality of all humankind. Kom people must see through such actions and not be taken in by them, nor give up their quest for joy, for happiness, for prosperity. As long as the air you breath nourishes your blood and feeds your body and soul, continue to see past the events of today, be strong and hold fast and true to our traditions, and our honor as a thriving people will reemerge once again in the future.

I have only one path to follow, and it may look like I am doing just the opposite of what I preach. Be strong and understand that in order to avenge the events of today, I must seek our elder spirits and ask for help, as our numbers are too few to survive. Gather what you can, use all your resources to survive, and find a way to hide until I return to you again.

The people listened patiently to the leader, but without the structure and support of the older men, the remaining women and children gathered what they could and wandered aimlessly about the surrounding regions, never too far but well away from their persecutors.

Time would be needed for the older boys to grow up and help in some way to regain a semblance of community. Eventually a small group was strong enough to gather the dispersed people and establish a foothold in the land. But the leadership was still immature, and they were unable to find a true direction to go, to rebuild, and to grow again.

Legend states that after a time the Kom leader, having distanced himself from his people, hanged himself. And from the spot where he died, a lake formed, rich and plentiful with fish. The Bamessi people saw this as a bountiful source of food and excitedly entered the lake in great numbers to catch the fish. When most of them were in the water, the bottom of the lake collapsed and the water flooded and rushed in on them, drowning all who were there.

After the lake collapsed, punishing the Bamessi people, the spirit of their deceased leader reappeared to Kom people in the form of a python. It started a trail which would lead Kom tribe southeast toward Laikom, an exodus from this time of turmoil

A large rock python, nearly 25’ in length, had appeared to a small group of young men while the women were preparing the evening meal. The merciless python is a non-venomous snake that will eat almost anything in sight, killing its prey by means of constriction. The young men were startled at first, but having encountered the large creatures before, understood how to stay away from it until it passed by them.

This one, however, stayed and looked at them, almost as if attempting to communicate with the boys in some way. A soothing calm came over them, and they lowered themselves to the earth and knelt with their hands folded in a position that was customary when sitting before the Kom Leader.

One of the boys’ mothers came near and saw this, thinking it was odd for them to be assembled this way with no elders present. She started to speak but stopped when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the great snake. The snake looked over at the woman and back at the boys, and finally looked toward the brush which led into the fields.

It suddenly began to rise to nearly half its length, as the children stood still and stared, unable to move or even to breathe. The snake swayed back, and as it moved it began to dig into the soil, slowly at first and then vigorously until a large groove began to form beneath it. It began to turn and move away toward the fields and, without anyone noticing it, disappeared and was gone, leaving a deep furrow in its wake.

In this way, a trail had been forged by the large python, and when the word got back to Kom people, they all gathered to see what had happened. There was much discussion among the people about their dead leader’s prophecy. This was a sign to them that leadership and direction were near and that the spirit of their leader had returned as promised, carving a trail for them to follow and providing them with hope that safety was near. The scattered groups of Kom people gathered and knew they had to follow it, travel as long as they could on the trail of their leader’s spirit.

It would lead them hundreds of miles, sometimes winding back and forth as the terrain was tested and explored. Their leader wanted to be sure his people would once again find happiness and the richness of life they deserved. During this time, some of the younger males achieved maturity, and each new place and challenge provided them with lessons in wisdom. Young leaders began to emerge, but the scattered groups had still not merged into a single community.

One day, as quickly as the trail had appeared, it was gone. They had crossed rivers and ascended many slippery paths over rough terrain. The trail ended on top of a hill. As each member of the tribe arrived on the hill and noticed the abrupt halt in the procession, they stopped and surveyed the land, their land, a beautiful land that would become known as Laikom. The mountain that looked over the trails on which they had travelled and the hills that surrounded it would become their new home, the home of Kom Dynasty, and my home as well.

Kom celebrated their arrival at their new home and soon reestablished order and structure within the ranks of the people. They settled down and began to form what is now referred to as Kom Dynasty or the Kingdom of Kom. And as with all kingdoms, there is a king, referred to as the Fon.

The Fon resides at the top of the established government, which represents both a spiritual and a secular order. He is very competent in all matters and provides leadership and unity to the tribe. As George Washington was to the American people, Fon Jinabo I was the father of his nation

Like so many great men, the Fon was a great lover of women, so much so that he was allowed to have many wives and, as a result, had many children. Rumor has it that at one point in history, one of the successor Fons had up to 200 wives. So while we do respect George Washington for his place in history, it is clear that for Kom, the Fon literally created history.

I mention this not to be funny, although some may smile at the thought, but to explain that in Kom culture the traditional family is not simply a father, mother, and children, but a complex maze of father, mothers, and children. As I will explain later, my immediate family is equally complex, and this complexity brings with it extended support when it is needed.

Fon Jinabo I, out of respect for the spirit of their dead leader, built a royal palace on the spot where the great python was last seen. Some believe that the python will return one day, and because of this belief, a carefully selected group of Kom people is chosen to stand watch for such an appearance.

I believe, however, that the python still does appear, but